Thawed
by BookShadow
Summary: Elsa in Arendelle has grown up to be the poised, perfect queen that everyone expects her to be. But what happens if Elsa and Anna had an older sister, who lives far far away, and was trained in the magic of arcane arts? This is her story. TEMPORARILY POSTPONED.
1. One

**A/n: Hiya! Back a bit sooner, ya? This had just been sitting on my desk (Yes, I do have a desk) for ages, so I decided to post it before I lost it or something. It will probably be continued after _Frigid Winds_ is done.**

**Danazia Gray: Aww, thanks! I might post a chapter or two, but my main focus will be on _Frigid Winds_. Sorry!**

**I do not own Frozen. Disney does.**

Chapter One: The Fractureling

A cloth sack was hanging in the corner of a large stone room. Its browned edges had frost creeping up on it, and it was swaying slightly. All of a sudden, a snowball connected with the target, hitting it where a person's ribs would be. The target spun around like a top, swinging wildly.

A frustrated sigh echoed through the chamber. The burst of vibrations in the air came from the only person in the room. She was both fierce and beautiful. Anyone who knew lore and legends could see the similarities of this girl and the Snow Queen Elsa of Arendelle.

This woman was not Elsa, however. She had the same silver-white hair, and her skin was a pale as her doppelgänger's, but her eyes were more muted, like freshly melted ice mixed with sludge. She wore a short dress made entirely out of her ice, which clinked by way of the bells suspended from her skirt. The bodice was a darker blue, almost black, and the skirt and sleeves were as blue as a clear ocean.

Her hands glowed a turquoise-purple when she put them together, making a sizable snowball. Without further ado she hurled it at the target, using her magic to propel the missile. The target swung from the blow.

The woman sighed and conjured up an ice bench, then sat on it and wiped a cloth in her face. At that very moment, a heavy knock echoed around the training room, coming from the leftmost of three doors.

The woman stood up and half jogged, half walked, toward the door. She opened it just as the person outside put their hand up to knock.

She would have been brained if not for the frosty shield that spun in midair between the fist and her head. After waiting three long seconds, she dispelled the magic and stepped back.

The man who was outside swung his hand back and forth like a pendulum, masking the awkwardness. "Remember to block with your hips and waist as well as your shoulders, Arken," he admonished. "Duck as well as as summon."

The woman, Arken, gave a short bow and stepped aside. "Thank you, Master," she said, letting the man walk through. "I am sorry I have trespassed over my one hour."

The Master, whose name was Trevor, shook his head. "Nay, Arken, I should congratulate you for practicing while the other trainees talked and further hindered their learning."

Trevor had bright green eyes and sandy hair. Most pheasants would label him as handsome, but here at the training center he ran, he was generally seen as intimidating and powerful.

Arken nodded her thanks. "Master, what shall I be learning this afternoon?" She asked, sitting on her ice bench while Trevor conjured up a roaring bonfire and sat in front of it. Arken was not surprised to see that the fire had not melted her ice and remained burning atop of the diamond plane.

"Arken, I think that you are the most advanced of my students, therefore you will be leaving Reta, Delle, and Hadinus behind. "We will be working on the finer points of summoning your magic for two days and then you will be the first ever student to graduate before your fellows." Trevor said all of this with serious face, his green eyes never leaving Arken's dark blue ones.

"Yes, Master," Arken said, standing up.

"Arken, you may call me Trevor in the confines of this room. I think you to be advanced and, as much as I hate to say this, you and I are of the same skill in summoning."

Arken gasped. "Master, please–"

"It is not a problem," Trevor said gently. "You have grown so much." He looked at her with tender green eyes.

"Thank you Master. Trevor," she corrected herself.

"Good. Now, we must delve ourselves into the art of summoning. Make a chain link and an arrow at the same time."

The exercises grew in complexity for the next two hours, whereupon Trevor called a halt to the magic and sweat. "Arken, go clean yourself and then join us at the dinner hall," he said, and then departed.

After a nice shower and some new clothes, Arken joined the three other fracturelings, as they were called. She sat next to Reta and Hadinus, with Delle, the youngest of the spell-weavers, across from them.

Arken let her eyes wander over, looking at Delle. The young girl was barely fifteen years old and controlled poison. Her eyes were a sickly green and her hair a wild blond.

Delle caught Arken staring at her and raised her thick eyebrows. Arken shook her head and concentrated on her food, picking at the steamed vegetables and the stew, which Trevor had cooked using his own fiery powers.

After a while, Arken noticed that a stony silence had entered the dining hall and had no intention of leaving. She looked up. "Why is everyone so quiet?" she asked. She knew Reta had a crush on Hadinus and they usually talked. And talked, and talked, and talked.

Trevor finished a carrot before looking up. "I would prefer your fellow fracturelings to answer that," he said.

Reta, Delle, and Hadinus (Nicknamed Hadin because Reta liked that better), had some sort of staring contest, which involved Delle burning a hole through the table, Hadin calling up the earth to fix it, and Reta unleashing a gust of wind in the hall, causing the tapestries to flap around as if they had a life of their own.

Finally Delle sighed as if she had lost the contest. "They don't like it," she said.

_They. Don't. Like. It._ Arken thought. "What is _it_?" she asked.

As one, the four fracturelings turned to Trevor. "They dislike the very thought of you leaving," he explained.

As the thought crashed down on her, Arken thought about how her sister had condemned herself to complete isolation because she was scared. Scared of dangerous things. Hurt. Fear. Guilt.

Elsa didn't even know that Arken was alive. She didn't know that Arken even _existed. _And Arken wanted it to stay that way. She had left when she was five, sustained only by her powers and her desire to live. Elsa didn't have to know that she and Anna had another sister.

_No. I will not let fear control me._ Arken stood up straighter. "No need," she said smoothly. "I will be gone in two days, and you three will have nothing but a faint memory of me that will fade over time." _I am not like my sister._

Trevor nodded. "Well said," he praised. Then he looked down at his food and picked up his fork, speared a cauliflower on the end of it, and put it in his mouth, effectively closing off the conversation.


	2. Two

**A/n: This will be kind of a story that has no meaning to it, as in it has no planned plot and no defined ending. I'll just write whatever's on my mind.**

**To:**

**I do not own Frozen.**

Chapter Two: New Companionship

"Ready?" Trevor asked, standing in the doorway and blocking the light to Arken's sparse room. Brown wallpaper was the only thing decorating the walls and hastily laid bricks textured the floor. A mattress and a patchwork quilt rested on the bed stand.

Arken picked up the backpack that Trevor had made for her and nodded. "I'm ready," she said, thinking of the wide open spaces that she would soon be exploring.

"You have to say farewell to the other fracturelings," Trevor said.

Arken shook her head. "I'm fine," she protested. "They won't miss me anyway." She knew she sounded like a kid, but it was true. Everyone had been give a day off from training because of Arken's leaving. All throughout the short breakfast, she had fended off the many glares from the other kids.

Trevor sighed. "If you insist," he said, leading her out of the room and into the entrance courtyard.

Arken nodded, uncomfortable with the silence and ready to take off. Trevor faced her and sighed. "Go," he said, dropping his gaze to her feet. Arken started to protest but he held up a hand and trudged away.

The world. The wide, unknown world just sitting there waiting for her to discover it, to find out what she had been missing while trapped in the training center.

Arken straightened her shoulders and walked along the stone path. She passed the gardens and smelled the sweet exotic flowers for the last time. She reached the archway under which she and the others had played when they were young and just recruited.

Finally, she reached the gates, the stone gargoyles still and frightening. When she was younger, Arken had name the on the left Sarah and the one on the right Emilae.

As she passed through the gates, she ran her hand along the side of the Sarah. "Goodbye, friends," Arken whispered. Sarah seemed to shiver along her length and Emilae's tail seemed to twitch.

Arken stared at the gargoyles for a moment. Sarah's stone body seemed to loose the grey color. Arken looked closer. Sarah was turning red.

A growl from Emilae confirmed the fact that her old friends really were coming alive. Arken's magic was alive, too, but this was different. Stone into real flesh and blood-unheard of!

Arken watched as Emilae turned into a purple gargoyle and pulled herself off of the stone pillar which she sat on. Sarah the red gargoyle walked up to Arken and looked at her. Arken stared back at Sarah until she disappeared.

Arken stepped back. Disappearing gargoyles that lived? Was this the result of the oatmeal she had this morning?

Emilae sat down next to Arken, who stared at the unmoving animal. Then Arken took a step forward. So did Emilae. Arken stepped back. Emilae copied her steps exactly.

Shrugging, Arken set off toward Hamilton Town. She planned to get supplies, sleep for a few nights, and then continue to Arrowpoint Village, where she would stay until something interesting happened.

Arken walked until dusk, halfway to Hamilton Town. On the grassy plains right below the mountains, she set up her camp, lighting a small fire but making an ice cloak around her.

Emilae prowled the camp-Arken still didn't get why they came alive, or why Sarah had disappeared. But eventually, after a dinner of mushroom stew, Arken wrapped her quilts around her and fell asleep.

Daybreak came swiftly, and when Arken woke up, Emilae was a stern sentinel over the small hill, which seemed to have burst into flowers and other life overnight. Squirrels chattered and birds cheeped to each other. A pair of rabbits bounded by the remains of Arken's fire.

And, strangely enough, Sarah had appeared. Her red nose was stuck in the food bag that Arken had so carelessly left out, and it was swinging back and forth as Sarah tried to free herself. Arken laughed. "Here," she said. "Let me pull that out."

After she did so, she wondered at the sound of her voice. It was the only sound she had heard in eighteen hours, and maybe this was what isolation was. Perhaps that's why her sister Elsa had gone back to her kingdom so quickly.

Arken quickly packed up her stuff and looked around for Sarah. That gargoyle had a nasty habit for disappearing without warning. Emilae looked ready to move, excitement somehow making its way onto the front of its stone face.

Arken walked all the way to Hamilton Town without any disturbance.

When she was at the front gate, she wondered what she would do with Emilae. It was hard to be inconspicuous when there was a stone gargoyle next to her. A _live_ stone gargoyle.

When Arken turned around, Emilae was gone. Arken looked around, searching. Her eyes lit upon a small stone gargoyle laying on the ground. It was purple and looked exactly like Emilae.

Arken shrugged and picked up the statue. She put it in her pack and then walked through the entrance.

**A/n: Maybe I do have an idea for this...**


End file.
